The bar of the club is dingy, with dust in the air and rubble still around the edges. Despite the cleaning that's gone into it, it's still obvious that the place was at least somewhat hit during the War. However, if you look closely, you can also still see the remains of what it must have looked like before the bombs fell--an intricate design on the bottom of a pillar here, the dull shards of a mirror there.
The bar itself is a big wooden construction, stretching about fifteen feet. While the glass behind it that once held magnificent cases of liquor was long ago smashed, the bar has been repaired as best as possible, and the barkeep himself, a tall, lean man with corded muscle, looks content to work here.
As you sidle up to the bar, you see him polishing a glass that, in spite of the surrounding environment, is already shining. He looks at you with one eye, the other remaining fixed on the glass, and then gives a slight grin and sets his "work" down. "What'll you have, stranger?" he asks.
Walks in shaking the road dust out of his jacket and beating it off his clothes near the door.
Coughs a bit and looks around at the place. Not bad not bad. Not what it was when I was here last but its still got class. Looks at his milboy and wonders if the bunker down here still has anything left in it worth looking at. He knows it was demilitarized but it might have fuses and power cores....
Wanders up to the bar. Barkeep I'm Darius nice to meet you. I will admit that I'm broke but, I'm good with well just about anything execpt chems. Anything I can do for room and board for a few days? Looks around at the other patrons almost itching for a fight. Shakes his head and mutters something under his breath.
A scrawny young man with appallingly bad skin, clad in layers of rags and wearing an ancient steel helmet, is sitting in the shadows in the corner. He hands a bulky sack of something to the man sitting across the table from him, looking around quickly to check nobody's watching them, then recieves an envelope full of caps in return. He talks to the man for a moment, attempting to foist a pamphlet on him; the man shakes his head violently, getting up quickly and walking out of the building. The young man replaces the pamphlets somewhere in the recesses of his costume, gets up and goes to the bar.
"Good evening, brother", he says to the barman. "Atom has smiled upon me this day, so tonight I shall not be eating molerat meat, for once. Salisbury steak, and whisky, if you please"
He notices Darius, and feeling in a generous mood, addresses him
"Greetings, pilgrim. Do you walk in the Light? May I share Atom's blessings with you - what'll you have?"
Looks like a Heathen, but maybe the Fiery Father will show him the Way. If not, better leave him alone - *not* an easy mark by the looks of him...
Thank you gracious sir. And a atom smasher if you have the makings of that drink if not a whiskey. As for eats just whatevers at hand.
He looks his benefactor over and grins at him.
I don't know what light you speak of son but I trod the shadowed path and teach darkness to fear where I go..... but if you got a pitch hearing it is the least I can do for your kindness. And if you have any knowledge of these parts I wouldnt be adverse to listening to your advice.
"Flenn, Strongut they call me," the bartender nods as Darius speaks. "On account of drinking everyone else in town under the table." He cocks his head for a moment, then nods again. "Being broke's a shame, and not something you usually want to be 'round here. You from a Vault?" Flenn asks with a gesture to Darius' Milpip-Boy.
He looks around for a moment, then leans in closer. "As for something to do for caps, you didn't hear this from me, but..."
Flenn nods to the scrawny man as he requests his meal. "Certainly, Winter. One steak and some whiskey coming right up." Flenn takes a moment to look at Darius. "And for you... some Scotch, I think. Atoms ain't been smashed around here for almost a hundred years."
Laughs at the bar keepers joke. Heh its been a long time.... Don't know why I keep trying to order one might be the only one that knows how too. As for a vault yeah something like that. So how stripped out is the bunker under here? A vault huh. Where abouts?
Looks over at the guy who bought him his drink and meal. And waits on an answer....
Winter briefly adopts a sour expression, displeased at hearing Atom's name taken in vain, but says nothing, instead rearranging his features into a friendly smile and sliding a pamphlet underneath his new acquantaince's drink when the barman sets it down.
"Here, brother - a message of hope for all of us, with a bright new future awaiting the faithful after the Second Cleansing arrives. Think upon it, and perhaps your heart will be opened to the good news from the Angel Oppenheimer and his anointed Prophets. As for your second question, there are many talents buried in vineyards around here - sadly, the Sons of Perdition are equally thick upon the ground, and many of Atom's blessings will require a strong arm to free them from the grasp of the unrighteous."
He glares around the bar, seemingly including most of the patrons in that category, but nobody pays him any attention.
"No doubt brother Fenn could be persuaded to programme the location into that device of yours"
He points to Darius' pip-boy, looking at him questioningly and lowering his voice.
"I have never seen devices quite like this, although I have seen similar. Of course, we are all strangers on this earth, but where is your home, pilgrim? Are you, ah, "En-clave?" "
Heh not hardly and if they know whats good for them the Enclave will leave me alone. As for this.
Waves at the milboy on his arm.
Its a bit of a useful toy that makes a boom with a thermal bloom heh.
Chuckles darkly.
Oppenheimer huh? Met him once he was a kool cat. He taught me to mix atom smashers. I had just joined the army. Man were those the days. And no Oppenheimers toys are easy to make if you know what your doing.... A lot of things you guys have lost are.
Shakes his head in memory of what was lost and all thise trying to cling ti the past.
So wanna see if we can check out whats below here before we head to a unknown vault. Those vaulttech guys were bastards what they did.
Keeps trying to get a read on winter. Trying to figure if he is with anyone he needs to know about. And wonders at the worship of Oppenheimer
You know I am not rightly sure old Julius would want anyone worshipping him
"You met the Angel Oppenheimer?
Winter stares open-mouthed at Darius for a good few moments, then grins. "Truly, this is a great day! By all means let us head below - once I have finished my steak."
He attacks his meal with determination, making sure he's thoroughly refuelled before heading out on another adventure.
He would be the first to tell you he was no angel and yes I worked as a tester for a few projects of his its why im here now.....
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Perched atop a stool in a far corner of the bar cloaked in shadow, the diminutive ghoul isn't easy to spot.
"Angling to convert another poor, lost soul is he?" he asks the barkeep, his low, raspy voice slipping into an even raspier chuckle.
Ordering a Nuka-Cola -- he never found alcohol all that effective or appealing -- he tries to remain unnoticed as he observes the unlikely duo forming at the bar.
"Maybe," Flenn says. "Here you go, Gergg. Lemme know if you ever want something stronger, little old one! Hehe." Flenn chuckles as he calls the ghoul by the nickname he's given him, and goes back to polishing the glass.
Thinks of his power armor he needs to finish putting back together. Hmm wonder if anyone else would be up for a trip below.
Barkeep would you mind if we poked around down below I wanna see if anythjng is left. And I can check on your power systems while im down there.... If you dont quite trust me you can ask your friend there to keep an eye on us
Winter pauses in mid-chew. "Gergg. I pray every day that Atom will open your eyes to the truth, but your soul is as black and tarry as Lake Erie itself and I swear only your sins are keeping you alive. And you owe me four caps", he says, automatically, not expecting any response other than a barrage of foul language.
Oppenheimer *told* him he was no angel?!
"Ah!", he nods wisely at Darius. "You must have known him before his ascension. Truly, I'm proud to have met you!"
He shakes the soldier by the hand, tears of joy shining in his eyes, before returning to his meal.
The doors fly open as old butcher pete comes on the jukebox. Through them sprints a crazed and ugly looking ghoul. He flails up to the jukebox punching buttons fevereshly until you see him hit with an electric shock blowing him away and swithing the song to a waltz. He picks himself off the floor dusting off his nonexistant scraps of clothing. Nonchalantly he strolls up to the bar.
gin and tonic if you will good man. he says in a scratchy british accent. He seems unfazed though his scalp still sizzles. something smells absolutely divine, im positively famished, do you have any good bubble and squeak?. He turns and smiles at the rest of the patrons. They always said british people had bad teeth but british ghouls take it to a new level of horendous.
The door to the bar swings open and a man enters. As the man enters the bar, sun, filtered through dusty air, lights upon him. From his knee high brown leather boots covering a good portion of his khaki pants, , to his belted bush jacket, pith helmet, bushy brown mustache, and monocle, the man seems to come right out of the story books from the old British Safari. The only thing out of character seems to be the laser rifle slung over his shoulder, a sharp contrast to the sabre hanging from his belt. The man coughs at the dust, switches his monocle to the other eye, and closes the door behind him.
His eyes light upon Flenn and he raises a hand as he calls out to him. "Ah, Flenn old chap! The man walks proudly up to the counter. "Have you received any word about those blasted super mutants?
He looks at Darius and gives him a friendly smile. "The bigger they are, the harder they fall as I say, what." He gives a quick hearty laugh and slaps Darius on the shoulder.
Fitz is just asking about general sightings of super mutants, as he is always on the hunt for them.
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"Four caps my shriveled ass! he snaps back at the religious zealot. "You owe all of us at least that much for making us listen to your Atom mumbo jumbo all the time."
I wouldn't get too excited about what's downstairs, big guy," he mutters to Darius. "Anything down there worth stealing's already been stole and anything left ain't worth braving the radiation to get to."
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"You keep carrying on like that and maybe one of these smoothskins will take you home as a pet," Gergg tells his ghoul counterpart.
"And supermutants?" he asks Safari Jim. "Now I know those broads you usually end up dragging home with you are pretty ugly, even by my standards, but you really shouldn't go around announcing to everybody that you're looking for love. Have some self-respect for Atom's sake," he says, laughing to himself while casting a sideways glance to gauge Winter's disapproval.
Radiation this facility was designed to take a direct nuke. What happened a reator leak? The entire bunker was shielded crap. I need power cells and this place would have been easiest. The vault it is. I doubt the armory here in town survived.....
Stands and paces in a very precise manner. A manner somewhat familiar to Gergg but odd to the rest.
Dam dam and tripple dam. I'm hitting the vault anyone who wants a share is welcome to join in. Anyone got a work table around here? I need to do a bit of work on my gear.
Winter knows better that to rise to Gergg's bait.
"You'd be lucky to get four caps for that hinter of yours, even from Necro Billy."
Billy, at the other end of the bar, turns around at the mention of his name, notices who's speaking and turns away again, making a rude gesture as he does so.
"The armoury's been picked clean by the Chi-town Rangers, brother, and you don't want to go asking them for favours", he announces to Darius.
"Still, there's bound to be something left down below - Atom will provide, so I'm in"
Looks at winter.
Whats the big deal about knowing ol' Julius?
Shakes his hand back and shakes his head trying to figure out just whats going on.
"No point, I'm afraid," Flenn informs Darius about the basement. "Sure, it might still have some tech down there, but all the good stuff's been looted."
Flenn eyes Skeck sideways. "I have some gin, and the tonic's a little dirty, but I think you'll be okay from it. You been around here before? Don't remember seeing you. Got a name?" The barkeep sets the glass down and goes about mixing the drink before giving it to the new arrival.
To Fitz, Flenn nods and pulls out a small flask of whiskey, pouring it into a glass and giving it to the hunter. "No tell more than the usual banter of wanderers in the Wastes. Careful out there, eh?"
He looks at the motley group of men and ghouls, scratching his chin. "Well, heading to the Vault isn't a bad plan, but I'd suggest you wait. I'm thinking that you might get something in it for you once the guard show up."
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"Winter there thinks Oppenheimer was an angel sent by Atom to give us the gift of radiation or some crap like that," Gergg tells Darius, studying him closely with a nagging sense of familiarity he can't quite place. "I've tried telling him he's bat-s~*+ crazy many a time, but he won't listen. Won't believe me that all radiation's good for is making you smoothskins end up looking like that ugly son of a b&#&$ over there," he gestures toward the gin-and-tonic swilling ghoul, "or making you end up dead. He's convinced it's somehow good for him, even bathes in the s*&%. I got sick of trying to steer him straight. He's got his head so far up Atom's ass I wonder if he even hears anything us sinners try to tell him anyway."
Looks at winter. Surprised and wonders what Oppenheimer would think. Wow. Just wow. Not sure old Julius would like that. He said he did what he did to save people but hated what he had created. I remember his words when they tested the first one though. "Behold I am created Death destroyer of Worlds" Dont think he was too happy with what he had made even if it saved lives and ended a war.... It was mighty impressive though.
Looks back at the bar keep. Like I said the vault it is then. Though I might take a look down there once I find a rad suit. See what I need to get the reactor working. That is if im gonna stay here for a while.
Looks around at the crew in the room and thinks this is gonna be fun......
"Oh, I listen to sinners, pilgrim - when they make sense. And I have seen the results of the Great Cleansing, a true separation of the sheep and the goats, which truly purged the land of the Sons of Perdition that St. McCarthy warned us about - the corporeal Oppenheimer may have had doubts (the flesh is weak, after all), but the celestial Oppenheimer - the *true* Oppenheimer - is another matter"
He nods in a self-satisfied way, deaf to any attempts to convince him otherwise, then looks over at Fitzgerald.
"Nimrod, a mighty hunter before the Lord", he says, seemingly at random.
Looks alarmed.
St. McCarthy? What? That man was dangerous right but dangerous and he ruined many peoples lives. Brilliant man but crazy as a bedbug. He was the one who vetted me for OCS tothe senate and had me sent to West Point. He kept trying to use those of us he helped to learn more than he should its why I never made full bird. But he was right in the end I suppose.
dont think i can dig any thoughts outta this brain box at the moment. Ive got a killer headache going and thinking is not making it better. then under his breath. plus i think im seeing midget zombies, and theyre insulting me. It may be best to leave me be. I think im going mad.
Fitzgerald hears Flenn's report and says "Blast" but at mention of a vault he perks up.
"A journey to a vault? That does sound like smashing good fun. I'll dare say there will be things to hunt on the way, what. Count me in!" He slaps his gloved hand on the table.
Good thats two anyone else?
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"You just got here, chief, what's your hurry?" he asks. "That vault's not going anywhere. Plus, if Flenn says somebody'll make something worth your while, they usually do. I plan on waiting around a bit to see what kind of incentive there is for this vault-diving expedition of yours."
"And what in the hell is this crap on the jukebox? I'd rather listen to molerats screw than this garbage."
Yes but im on a time table somewhat. But yiu might be right perhaps being patient is best this time.
He sits back down at the bar and looks around.
"As they say, so better time than the future! Or was that the present?" Fitzgerald mutters off into nothing, then seems to focus back in on his surroundings.
"Ah yes. Well I have nowt else to do, so I shall stick around, and see what turns up. He takes a seat a seat at the bar and waves over Flenn.
"Flenn, my good fellow, I shall take a pint of lager in the mean time.
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"Aren't from around here, are ya, chap?" Gergg quizzes the super-mutant-obsessed hunter. "I don't know what you smoothskins did to piss those big orange lugs off so badly. They've never given me a bit of trouble and I've been around forever."
Shifting to Darius, the apparent leader of the rag-tag group of smoothskins, Gergg's decaying face forms a semblance of a grin.
"Looks like you fellas will be needing the services of someone who can handle a little radiation if you hope to get to all the goodies. I know Winter there likes to think he can handle Atom's holy water just fine, and I'm more than happy to let him try to prove me wrong, but I think I present a pretty valuable commodity given the radioactive properties strewn about our landscape. Since the only other ghoul in this place seems, well, a bit off... I'll retrieve everything I can from any areas rendered inaccessible to you smoothskins by excessive radiation for first choice of the loot I find and a small 30% finders' fee on the rest. Whattya say, chief?"
Heavy foot falls herald the coming of something big, several big things, and those who turn to look find themselves staring at the silver armor of a few Brotherhood of Steel soldier's as they duck their way into the bar. They all have their helmets on and look around the bar, surveying the scene for a moment before two of them remove their helmets and smile at the well supplied bar. One of them noticed their comrade hadn't removed his helmet chuckled as he slugged the still helmeted soldier in his armored shoulder. "Come on Scribbles take off your helmet, no raiders here!"
With a sigh the third man removed his helmet, revealing his shock of white hair to the room and a much younger face then anyone would expect from a Brotherhood Soldier. "Call me scribbles again and I swear you'll encounter equipment defects in the near future..."
The offending soldier threw up his armored hands in a playful, placating fashion. "Point taken and noted. Don't be slipping me a live frag when i'm asleep alright?"
The first one to enter the room turns and regards the two with a hard glare. "Quit your gabbing and lets get something to drink..."
The younger man with white hair started to speak when the one with the hard glare raised a finger and pointed it at him. "You say one word about protocol freak and I will make a special note in the field report for you. Remember, your a$$ is hanging by a thread and I hold the scissor's boy. Understood?" The younger man shut his mouth but the glare he gave his Commanding officer was edged with suppressed rage, which only made his officer smile more. Especially when he responded a moment later in a trained tone. "Yes, Sir."
His commanding officer gave him a light pat on the cheek, followed by a rougher tap that was more like a slap. "Good Dog." The second soldier's face betrayed he didn't agree with the mistreatment of his fellow but remained silent as his CO waved for him to follow him to the bar.
With that the two stepped up to the bar, seemingly ignoring everyone in their passing and taking the only open spot off to the left of the bar. They stood together drinking and talking while their compatriot hadn't moved more then a couple steps to the left and leaned against the wall. He surveyed the room slowly with his eyes, surprisingly both were different colors one blue and the other was violet. He stood much taller then the others in their power armor and along with white hair his skin looked paler then anyone else in the room. He was armed fairly heavy too, a nasty look knife was hanging off his hip, while a large laser rifle was slung over his shoulder. The other two were similarly armed albeit their equipment looked a lot newer compared to the young man at the door.
Every once and awhile the young man would cast a glare at his CO's backside but for the most part he kept his eyes downcasted towards the floor and looked to be impatiently waiting for them to get done with their drinks...
His hand drifts to his gun as the paladins enter. He eyes them hard for a moment waiting to see if they try anything. The weak points of their half assed power armor running through his head. No matter how he runs it he cant take the whole squad not from this close not with out his armor which is a dead give away. He kicks his ruck further under the counter as quietly as possible.
That sounds good with a few changes your choice may not exceed a share and a half and may not include any of the few items I am searching for unless there is more than I need. As for the rest the Ahem charter. Everyone gets a full share with one and a half being set aside for healing and ammo refills should we need it if not it will be devided out. And the rad scout gets a share and a half for being able to go where we can't. Any questions?
He looks around the room and grabs his ruck and slips towards the door. I'm gonna go see about doing some trading be back in a bit.
Runs his hand over his ears in a way gregg feels is familiar and slips out the door.
He eyes the large man the moment he stands and merely nods when the large man looks his way. He wasn't particularly interested in the people or being in the Succubus Club at all. He didn't drink, he wanted to be on patrol and finding useful items to fix. He thought about warning the man about the raiders, but by the mere glance he got of him he knew this fellow didn't need any advice from a squaddie.
After that man left he remained leaning against the wall as his fellow Repo squad members got their one drink. His three day suspension from patrol had been brutal and being stuck with this pathetic CO was driving him to a rage. They hadn't patrolled once, this man was more concerned with recruiting, more like hitting on, the locals and Kora was along for the ride. He had to behave though so he didn't get stuck with permanent gate duty...
He leans forward, tipping his gyro's back into a standing pose and glides over to the bar. He winces as some of the floor boards creak but they miraculously hold. Reaching the bar he looks to the bartender, his features screaming boredom as he speaks. "Do you have anything in need of fixing? If you've got parts and tools I can probably fix it. I'll do it for free even..." His CO's loud guffaw at his question causes his face to go completely neutral as he thought of a dozen ways he'd enjoy cutting the man.
Fitzgerald looks from Darius, to the bar, to the new people that entered, trying to figure out where to go. He calls after Darius as he leaves
"What about the vault old chap? I thought we were going..." as the door closes he trails off.
Odd little bugger, that one.
He stares at the door a little bit, then shakes his head and focuses back on the new comers.
"Greetings to the Brotherhood. Fitzgerald Hawtry, at your service." He gives a slight bow.
"Would you have any gen on Super Mutants around here?"
Winter looks down his nose at Gergg and is about to say something cutting about the small ghoul's scavenging abilities when the BoS walk in.
Midianites! Laden down with the wages of sin, no doubt!
His fingers twitch, and if the opportunity presents itself, he'll attempt to help himself to any small, valuable objects dangling in temptation's way...
If anyone walks outside just now they see Darius preparing a small camp inside the walls and in an area with good cover. Everything is set up with military precision. He is also looking for an area where he could cover and take a squad of BoS pallies.... He can also be heard mumbling to himself if you get close enough. "When in danger or in doubt run in cricles scream and shout" a mantra he repeats over and over.......
He turns to regard who was speaking to him, nearly missing the smaller ghoul as he didn't expect them to be quite so short. He didn't mind ghouls as some of them proved very knowledgable in long dead fields of study. To him they were a good source of information and deserved a little respect instead of fear or scorn. He looks to the old jukebox and nods as he ponders for a short moment. "Possibly, I will have to check it out first see whats wrong."
At Fitzgerald's greeting and question, he gives the man a warm smile before shaking his head. "Junior Paladin Kirion, pleasure to meet you." He carefully shakes the man's hand before shaking his head regretfully. "I haven't heard anything on the wire about new activity, the Reavers are active as ever, been fighting them the last couple of weeks. Small bands but still dangerous, so be careful out there."
He moves over to the jukebox and spends a decent amount of time working on it, especially because his fellows weren't going to be leaving anytime soon. With the extra strength granted to him by his power armor he was able to move the Jukebox with ease and, carefully opening the back he started perusing the old worn out wiring.
"You hearing anything new?"
"Pre-great war, decent condition, wiring looks to be in decent shape. Except here, *Zap* there you are..." He unplugs the machine and after several minutes of tinkering, a few more sparks in the face he manages to deduce some bad wiring and decides to create a daisy chain to get the power supply running smoothly again. Now he just needed to plug it in...
Fitz gets a quizzical look on his face.
"Reavers you say? I have not heard of these Reavers before. Of course I haven't been in these parts for some time. I had heard there was a herd of Super Mutants over in Small Rapids. He smiles a bit at his joke. However, when I got there all I found was radioactive water and ruins. Which is the same as anywhere in this blasted landscape.
Fitz suddenly stands up. I'm going to pop outside for a bit. I have to spend a bottle cap.
He heads out the door, and starts looking for a bathroom. He sees Darius of setting up camp, seeming rather nervous.
Extraordinary fellow. He'd rather sleep out here when I'm sure there are perfectly good beds inside. Ah, he must be wanting to save a cap or two. Good man. He nods at him approvingly, and keeps wandering around looking for the bathroom.
He nods to Fitzgerald as he looks over his handy work. "Reavers are a very strnge group. We'll talk more soon then, good meeting you."
Mutters to himself BoS idiots just loud enough for Fitz to over hear...
The jukebox kicks on for a moment as he plugs it in, spouting something strange. "HAVE A HOLLY JOLLY CHRISTMAS!" As it continues it's tune he shakes his head at the small ghoul's comment before shutting the back on the jukebox, hoping it doesn't blow a fuse or something...
He eyed his CO before approaching the table Gergg was sitting at. "It's like this whereever we go, the Brotherhood is either welcomed or given a cold shoulder until we leave." He extends his armored hand to the ghoul. "Junior Paladin Kirion at your service, formerly was a scribe in the order but I took the chance for advancement. Those two are some of the members of the Repo squad."
Skeck perks at the new music.
I do beleive I like this song, quite a lot indeed. He mutters to himself, then even quieter My brain isn't even hurting thinking about it. I wonder who this Helen is I keep thinking about, this song sure seems to bring up fuzzy memories of her. Best not touch those they look to be the hurting type of memory.
Nother Gin n' Tonic good keep, I seem to have an abundance of currency in my pocket and drink could be the cure to my ills
He taps the side of his head making a sick squish against the rotted flesh. It doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest. He seems lucid, for but a moment until his drink arrives and his eyes glaze over to the feral stare he had been keeping.
Idiots? I dare say the Brotherhood are not idiots.
Fitzgerald turns at Darius for his comment. He seems properly indignant.
Why they raised me from a wee lad. Though they did not seem to appreciate my fascination with the hunt.
His mind wanders off into memories, as he stands there staring above Darius's head, not really seeing anything in front of him.